Hey Brother
by caitewarren
Summary: The back-story of Killian and Liam Jones as they go from street urchins after the abandonment of their father to Navy Officers.
1. Chapter 1

There was three words in the English language that Liam Jones detested more than anything else in the world; _why, good form _and _bad form. _The three most commonly uttered phrases by his little shadow of a brother who found reason to question everything, anything and anyone.

"Hurry up would you?" Liam asked irate. He stood at the edge of the docks were His Royal Highness ships were docked. In the masses his little brother was darting and dodging as he scurried through people, uttering an apology as he went. For a street urchin the kid had very polite manners. Killian darted the rest of the way towards him standing by his side. He was truly a tiny scrawny little thing with gaunt cheeks, a diving board bony body and pants that hung loosely from his tiny hips.

His eyes bright blue as ever gazed up at Liam and sincerely uttered his apology. He ducked his head and his black shaggy hair fell into his eyes. When he did that he looked much more like an innocent woodland creature and it was that look that melted the people into giving up scraps of extra bread or a few coins here or there. Begging was not an easy task, a shaming one at that, but it was all they could do. Their mother died when Killian was an infant and their father left them many years ago without a parcel of food or any money.

"It's alright. Just try and keep up with me next time," Liam gripped his shoulders as he knelt down so that his little brother's face was just above his own. "I can't, I won't lose you." Killian hesitantly met his glance and Liam continued, "we're going to ask the ship captain's for a place aboard their ship. Now we must lie-

"But lying is bad form."

Liam gritted his teeth together and said, "We have too. You're a bit too young to work on the ship. Just let me do all of the talking."

The soldiers were a bit menacing to look at it. Grunting and yelling at one another in a vernacular known only to sailors. A few of the words Liam sort of could recall from the short lived travels their father had taken them on. Killian followed behind him starring in awe at the tall masts of the ships. Despite his claims that he could remember living on a ship, he was much too little to be able to actually remember anything. In a way it was a both a curse and a blessing.

Liam's stomach clenched painfully as he approached one of the soldiers. Heaving in a deep breath and a steadier voice than he expected asked, "my brother and I would like to work as Cabin boys for His Highness' Royal Navy."

The officer was perhaps in his forties with sandy blonde hair streaked with red. His eyes were a friendly hazel color and he had a warm smile upon his face when he turned to face them, "how old is your brother?"

Liam hesitated for a second before giving an answer, "thirteen going on fourteen." It was a complete lie. Killian was barely eleven and he could pass for maybe about nine years old. The officer stared dubiously at him and raised one of his eyebrows, "you, you're old enough to be a cabin boy." His eyes darted to Killian who was partially trying to hid himself behind Liam, "as for him he's just a child. A ship is no place for a child."

"We've lived on a ship before!" Killian piped up nodding his head enthusiastically, "Father took us on a ship."

The Captain looked to Liam for the truth in the statement who nodded uncertain where his brother was going with this.

"And who is your father?"

"Davy Jones."

Liam felt the heat rise to his cheeks and his stomach drop. The name was synonymous for treason and thievery, all things not honored by the Navy. The officer at first looked quite dumbfounded, his thin eyebrows knitting together, disappearing underneath his odd hat before realization drew across his face. "You're Jones' sons?"

"Aye, Liam and Killian Jones sir," Killian replied doing a slight salute which made the man give a hearty chuckle.

"And your mama was Geneva?"

The mention of their mother was odd and Killian looked to him for confirmation. Memories of Geneva had become blurred in his mind over the years, she had a kind round face, and big blue eyes like Killian's and curly brown hair like his, and always smelt of lavender.

"Your Papa was a bastard." The officer stated bluntly. "But your mama was a lovely sweetheart who got herself involved with a rotten to the core man. I'd do anything for her, and I would love to do anything for her boys but you're just too young."

"He's a good worker." Liam vouched earnestly. "He'll do anything you ask of him. And I'll do whatever he can't."

"Sorry boys."

Crestfallen and disappointed Liam offered his hand to his brother. Bony fingers entangled around his, loosely holding them. It seemed they were doomed to another few years of living off the streets and begging kindly strangers for any meager portion of food.

"Hold up you're not going to take the position er uhm-

"Liam. And no I'm not. I wouldn't leave my brother."

The officer sighed exasperated his shoulders slouching slightly. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat forming at his brow. "Alright, I'll take both of you. On a trial basis."

"Thank you. You won't regret it….,"

"You can call me Captain Everett."

Life aboard a ship was regimented, and much like life in the streets there was a strict hierarchy of men, and they were bottom of the chain. Their bed if one could call it that was a tiny hammock hastily tied in the middle of the main cabin room. Their pair had come up with many weird arrangements to try and sleep comfortably in it. None seemed to work where one could ever sleep or have an elbow digging into their gut. They alternated between sleeping on the wooden floor to sleeping on the cot, and neither was sure which was more uncomfortable.

The other sailors often snickered about them finding it necessary to sometimes shove into them or swipe a piece of biscuit off their plates, reminding Liam very much of life on the street. The kids who'd been living there the longest acted in a very similar manner, believing themselves to be entitled to whatever the younger urchins could scrounge up because they'd merely taught them where it was best to beg. The brothers tried their best to ignore it, it was futile to start any kind of confrontation, the sailors weren't children they were men.

The Captain was an aloof man who vouched for them many times. He told them stories about their mother and how their fathers wished for them to marry, discussing in great detail his love for Geneva. He'd describe her in great detail from her hair and the way it glistened in the moon's pale light to her toes, leaving nothing out. The way he spoke of her curves and bosoms made Liam cringe and Killian giggle at the odd word.

His sailing lessons began a few months after they'd been on the ship. The lieutenant was quiet, austere man with an odd accent who for the most part kept to himself at the helm of the ship. Matthias was his name and he instructed on the ways of navigation, star charts, mathematical equations, and sextants. He had book upon dusty leather book filled with various charts from various realms and lent them to Liam who'd spend hours in the dead of the night studying their contents by torch light or moonlight.

"You're a natural Jones." Matthias praised one night a year later. Half of his face was illuminated by the moon. His hawkish yellow eyes beamed down upon him and for the first time since Liam had began his lessons saw a natural smile. "Keep this up and one day you will be Captain."

"Really?" Liam inquired gripping tightly onto the wheel as he moved it two notches towards port to avoid hitting a rather large wave head on.

"Certainly," Matthias reassured. "You do plan to join the Navy as a sailor as soon as you're old enough right?"

"Yes as does my brother."

"I can never see young Killian as a Captain. He seems to be a better follow than a leader." Matthias thought aloud as he ambled towards the other side of Liam. "Guess it stems from following you his entire life."

**A/N: Should I continue? Yay or Nay? **


	2. Chapter 2

"Why didn't you tell me Papa was a fugitive?"

The question tumbled out of Killian's mouth a year after they'd been aboard the ship. The _Jewel of The Realm_ was docked at a merchant port along the Northern coast. The crew was to take its leave of absence whilst the Captain received new orders from their King. It was their first time they were entrusted aboard the ship by themselves and Liam was determined to keep it in tip top ship, which was why he was on all fours on deck scrubbing with all of his might at the wooden decks.

Something had been bothering Killian for a long time, despite the eleven year old's best attempts to hide it. He'd been quieter lately, asking fewer questions and there was this distance look in his eyes.

Liam brought himself into a kneeling position and said, "It wasn't any kind of secret."

Killian did a slight dance, bouncing back and forth on his tiny legs. "Then why haven't you mentioned it before?"

Their father had been a good man, a loving man who liked to hoist Liam onto his shoulders and parade him around their small town. People greeted him with a kind smile and a hello, they respected him and Davy always made it point to proudly introduce his "little man". The inhabitants of the town in a cheery voice would inquire if Liam would follow in his daddy's footsteps and join the King's navy and with a pride smile, sucking in his gut and trying to stand as tall as possible Liam said _yes_ _one of these days I'll be Captain just like Daddy_ _was_.

"I don't know." Liam answered.

Killian narrowed his eyes accusingly as he folded his arms across his chest. "You wanted me to sound like some sort of dupe?" he began to pace forward proclaiming, "a dimwitted child praising a man wanted for things of the most bad form, thievery and treachery against His Highness!"

Ever the dramatic his brother, Liam had to fight the urge to chuckle at his antics.

"Think this is funny?"

"No. Of course not, little brother," Liam assured quickly. "It's just you were-are so young. That's a hard truth to consume."

Their mother lived for a week after Killian was born. Feverish and in agony she begged and pleaded with Davy to go on, to love and raise her children with the uttermost care, attention and devotion. Liam was four then and terrified he listened from outside of the door, pressing his ear to it and desperately trying to block out the sound of the screeching from the tiny red thing that mother said was his little baby brother, Killian. One morning she took her last breath and closed her eyes never to open them again. Their father was never the same after they put her into the ground.

"But a truth I deserved to know."

"Yes." Liam agreed. "He, our father, was once a good man. A good man who fell into crime and performed things you call the most bad from. But his doings do not and will not define us. We'll make a name for ourselves, the Jones brothers. We'll redeem our family."

"Yes we shall."

"Go and finish your duties."

It was a daunting task to think about. The Jones name once was tarnished by the wrongdoings of their father, it only seemed fit they would amend that. Everything Matthias had taught him, he made an effort of teaching Killian who was and would always be his second in command.

Sometimes in the dead of the night when many of the crew was slumbering and the task of getting into harbor was left with him, he let Killian steer, but only for a little. His brother tended to have a narrow tunnel vision only starring at what was clearly in front of him. A sailor had to make an effort of looking everywhere for any sort of wave that could cause the ship damage or potentially send them overboard and for any enemies whether they are ships or creatures from the deep. One of the sailors Denny liked to tell the tale of when his previous ship was cracked in half by an angered Cyclops. Everyone aboard perished but Denny somehow someway managed to swim against the treacherous currents of the Dead Man's Sea to make it to land. The sincerity of his tale was uncertain but unnatural things did sometimes occur aboard ship.

It was eerily quiet in the underbelly of the ship where the two brothers munched upon stale hard biscuits. They sit upon the stiff bottom bunk they'd been sharing. The hammock that had once been their bed was still left assembled in the corner of the room. No one had bothered to touch it.

"Aren't they supposed to be back by now?" Killian inquired his voice varying slightly. He was gradually pulling apart pieces of his biscuit and eating them piece by tiny little piece, a habit he'd developed a long time ago from their street days when they tried to make every bit of food last as long as possible.

Liam gulped down the rest of his biscuit before mumbling, "Perhaps their meeting went longer than they thought. Matthias said the King tends to ramble on about pointless things."

Killian didn't look the less bit convinced but didn't say anything more to press it. It was getting much later than Everett and Matthias had predicted but there could be many reasons for it. The King was a rambler, the crew liked to drink on their nights off or perhaps they were having trouble returning to the docks. It'd been steadily snowing and horses were dumb witted animals that grew weary and jumpy when they couldn't see their own hooves buried in the snow. That must be it, Liam reasoned with himself whilst trying to ignore the growing pit in his stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

Liam laid on his side, cushioning his hands in-between the lumpy flat pillow and his head, carefully trying not to wake Killian as he tried another position. The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach only intensified and in the silence of the cabin his thoughts had taken over his mind, making sleep a near impossibility. All sorts of scenarios ran through out his mind. _Tomorrow morning I'll go into port and question about their whereabouts_, the calm sensible voice in his mind said whilst the other was wailing _They're all dead! You're going back to life on the streets! _A thought that made his insides churn. Here they had a chance for redemption, for a life worth living.They would not go back to starving cold nights on the streets begging.

"Liam!" a hoarse whisper called out. At first Liam wasn't sure he heard anything at all. It was barely above a murmur and perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him. Sometimes after long nights at sea sailors went stir crazy and saw all sorts of strange things. "LIAM!" The second was an urgent desperate shout that was most certainly real. Killian who'd been curled into a tiny ball stirred.

"Wha…What's going on?" his voice was still laced with sleep and his eyes were barely open as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Not sure. Stay here."

Liam tossed the blankets to his side hastily as he scurried towards the upper decks. The metal of the letter was ice cold to the touch and his bare toes curled in reaction when he began his ascendant. The sight before him was appalling. Matthias with only a few members of the crew lay scattered upon the deck, covered in crimson and snow. Some of them moaned out in agony clutching to different limbs, the others were silent. Their minds consumed by whatever terrible events had unfolded before them and left them in this state.

He tried his very best not to stare but found himself unable to avert his eyes. Matthias had a nasty looking gash extending from underneath his hairline to his left ear. Blood trickled down the side of his face. "We were ambushed." Matthias explained hastily. "we need to get the hell out of here." He placed his knobby hand onto Liam's shoulder and gripped tightly, forcefully tugging him along the deck towards the helm of the ship. "I can't see out of my eye boy. You're going to get us out. Where the bloody hell is your brother?"

"Below deck," Liam stated as his hands gripped at the stirring wheel. He'd navigated before, he'd sailed before, but this time felt different. He felt anxious and scared but terribly important and also prideful.

His little brother looked like a terrified animal creature as he walked on deck. His hair dishelmed and his clothes un-tucked and wrinkled, he wide eyed gazed at everyone wincing and gasping at the sight of the bloodied sailors. Matthias was having no patience for it, barking out at Killian to hurry up, he was going to help raise anchor.

The seas for the most part where calm. The ship hardly rocked back and forth as it left the Northern Port bay towards the open waters. The winds were at a steady pace propelling them in the direction they wanted to go and the clouds that had brought the snow fell had drifted away leaving a clear view of the bright stars. It was the precise sailing conditions and for that Liam was eternally grateful and sure some other force of nature was out there and taking pity on them.

Makeshift wraps had been placed upon nasty looking gashes and wounds. The sailors were limping along the deck towards the beds, supported by a twelve year old boy who for his part gritted his teeth and said nothing. Most of the men easily outweighed his ninety pounds by two fold but there was no halting his various trips back and forth, and whenever Killian's eyes traveled up to him at the helm Liam spared a prideful glance hoping to silently encourage him.

Matthias paced along the deck with furious movements uttering incoherent and not understandable words. The blood around his eyes had dried onto his face and he refused any sort of medical attention. Their crew was without their Captain, their lieutenant was partially blinded and many of the men were too gravely injured to properly do their jobs, they had no real course of destination aside from getting away from the port.

After the last man had been aided into his bed below deck, his little brother ambled towards them out of breathe and sweaty. His raven hair was plastered to his face and his clothing was stained with the blood of the others. There was a new level of maturity inside of Killian, instead of badgering them with thousands of questions he sensed the somberness and stayed quiet, positing himself on the Seaboard side of the wheel, standing stiffly and as tall as possible he ever so often used the tiny hand held telescope to scan for any sort of imminent danger. He was most certainly not the child he'd been a year ago, certainly not a man in any physical form or mentally but he was growing up. Liam reached his arm out and playfully ruffled his hair, and despite Killian's protests he kept doing it.

"Good form, brother. Good form."

A sheepish smile drew across Killian's face as he ducked his head in embarrassment. Praise and endearment had been all too rare in his life. Their mother wasn't around to kiss his bloody knees, or to tuck him in, or to shower him in maternal love. He wasn't praised for learning to count to ten or for learning how to spell his own name. Davy had grown into a person unable to be compassionate in Killian's childhood.

Liam had never been inside of the Captain's quarters before and standing inside of it, in front of the dusty mirror seemed slightly wrong. His hands shook as they attempted to button up the navy jacket, it all just seemed too be unreal.

"You're really in the navy now!" Killian chirped unable to contain his enthusiasm form where he sat upon the bed. He was captivated by the tiny white washed room and his hands grazed over the tiny trinkets and objects along the shelves and walls.

"I suppose." Liam agreed hesitantly as he finished the last button. "Would you please stop touching Everett's stuff? It's disrespectful." Immediately Killian's arm retracted to his side and a crestfallen expression became him.

Matthias adorned in his best Lieutenant's uniform peeks his head in. His left eye had a rather large bandage upon it giving him a look slightly like a pirate. His right eye zoomed in upon Liam. "Ready Jones?"

"As I'll ever be."

"That's hardly a winning spirit boy. You're going to meet our King and you saved us." Matthias declared giving Liam a hard pat to the back before turning to regard Killian, "don't get into any trouble whilst we're gone alright? And for the love of god don't fall in again."

Killian's face turned a bright crimson color as he hotly cried, "That was one time! One time!"


	4. Chapter 4

The palace was even more spectacular than Liam had ever pictured it to be. He ambled inside of the marble walls with his mouth gaping open as he took in the sight of the stained glass windows, the tapestry, the rugs, the paintings of eerie hooked nose people with tiny beady eyes that seemed to follow him and the long line of candles that illuminated only a tiny bit of the hallway.

Matthias abruptly halted before the large oak doorway where two knights stood at guard. He reached out and grabbed tightly to Liam's shoulders, "before we see the King there's something you need to know." Matthias cast a sideways glance at the guards before leaning his head in closer to Liam's ear and whispered, "The king, he's your grandfather."

The words came out rushed and surely he must have heard Liam say something wrong. Their family had been commoners, villagers, they surely hadn't been royals. His father was a fugitive. Matthias must have had him confused for someone else.

"The King is ready to see you now." One of the guards announced loudly as the oak doors opened from the inside of the grand throne room. The sun was brilliantly shinning in slightly blinding him as he was forced to squint as he made his way into the openness of the room.

The King sat upon one of the tallest thrones, he was perhaps fifty or sixty years of age, with a balding rounded head, wide set cerulean eyes and thin lips that were pulled into a tight grimace as the royal page announced their arrival and the trumpeters played the naval song. The Queen a bony narrow woman with a broad chest sat beside him in a slightly smaller throne. Her features were much more birdlike, a long hooked nose which was upturned as if she smelt something foul, had her legs crossed over one another and she appeared to be disinterested in the event.

"Your highnesses," both he and Matthias said in unison as they'd rehearsed countless times before.

The King whose name was Finnian stood at that moment and regarded Liam, "do you remember this palace?

"No sir. I do not have any recollection of the place."

"Aye I figured that much. Your mother fled in the middle of the night when you were just a wee lad with Captain Davy Jones, one of my most trusted naval officers." Finnian began to pace along the slightly arisen platform where the thrones rested. "You see she was pregnant with his child despite being married to your father."

Liam felt as though the whole world was spinning, as if he was caught in a treacherous storm and the Jewel of the Realm was rocking rapidly from side to side, churning his insides making him feel as though he was about to upchuck his stomach's contents. "I thought….I thought my father was Davy Jones."

"Perhaps your highness should stop." Matthias said urgently looking panicked.

Finnian let out a long chuckle making his large rounded gut jiggle slightly. He clutched his large stomach with his beefy hands as he paced the slightly raised platform where the thrones rested. "Why would you wish me to stop Matthias? Afraid I might reveal the boy's true paternity?"

"Please _don't_." Matthias pleaded. The soft spoken wise Lieutenant Liam had once known was gone. "I am about to be honorably discharged from the Navy, what good would it do him if he knew the truth aside then to torture him?"

Anger boiled in the pit of his stomach. Liam clenched his fists tightly to his sides and angrily ordered. "Tell me!"

"Your mother was married to another naval officer. The son of one of my knights, Sir Liam Matthias," Finnian replied, "I was told you were a bright boy Liam. Surely in the year you've spent together you haven't noticed the similarities between the two of you. Your height for one."

Liam couldn't bare to look at Matthias, his hands slowly clenching and unclenching as he fight every urge not to scream or run or do anything barbaric that would surely send the guards after him. The King finished off offering that he would take his father's spot as Lieutenant of the _Jewel of the Realm _and they'd be reassigned another Captain, Matthias would stay at port and train sailors at the Navigational school.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Liam hissed the moment they re-entered the long chambers of candles.

"I didn't expect him to reveal it-

"That's not what I was asking! Were you ever planning on telling me the truth that I was your son ever?"

Matthias was silent for a long time, unable to spare a glance at him. "No."

"Look at me! Look at me!" Liam cried out reaching forward and latching onto his arms. They were nearly the same height. Their eyes the same almond shape and their noses long and slightly squared. "all of this time you knew exactly who I was and you never planned on telling me the truth? Don't you think I deserved to know the truth?"

"You deserved the truth and so much more!" Matthias murmured. "Your mother and I we tried for you to love one another. We really did but both of our hearts belonged to another person and we were both miserable. She was just the first to act upon it whisking you away to that little village on the outskirts of the neighboring kingdom. You were convinced when you boarded that you were Jones' son and who was I too shatter every thing you had ever known?"

"Everything I know has been a lie! You, my mother, everyone has lied to me all of my life. Is my name even Liam? The only person who's ever told me the truth is the King!" Liam proclaimed angrily kicking at the bricks on the wall, ignoring the stabbing pains in his foot. Matthias went to help him but he swatted away his touch, "Don't you dare touch me! You liar!"

**A/N: Merry Christmas! Hopefully you enjoy this little plot twist. It's always been head cannon of mine that Liam and Killian weren't full brothers and that they descended from royalty. In a way this is the beginning of why Liam puts so much faith and trust in the King, the only person who hasn't lied to him. Geneva lied to him telling him that he was Jones' son and kept his royal ancestry from him, Davy pretended to be his father and Matthias never revealed that he was his father. Anyway let me know what you think of the plot twist.**


	5. Chapter 5

It'd been an accident, of course, but the harrowing guilt forming in Liam's gut was not helping him get over it anytime soon. Killian had yet to utter a word since the incident quietly and methodically going about his chores and duties in silence. The other sailors muttered and sniggered about it, jabbing each other in the ribs and commenting about his "battle scar" and how it would really set off the ladies at the taverns they weren't supposed to be visiting at port.

The new Captain John an elderly man with wise grey eyes who reminded Liam of an owl had taken to the situation quite calmly, though the situation was not one of the light airiness. His lieutenant was foolish enough to practice dueling with real sharpened swords that had permanently scarred his little brother's cheek. There was no punishments rewarded or no lecturing as they should have been, rather John requested they go about their business as usual and for the "young lad" to get bandaged up right and get some rest.

"Why didn't you punish me sir?"

John halted in his step not bothering to turn and face him when he answered, "I knew you'd punish yourself, you see, I once was like you. Self-righteous, loyal, always pinning to do the right thing and had a strict sense of the rules-

"As one should," Liam interrupted involuntarily, "sorry sir."

"Yes, rules are there for a reason and I also had a little brother who idolized me."

"_Idolized_? Killian doesn't idolize me-

John began to chuckle for a few moments before they turned into deep throaty coughs as he bent over upon his knees. Liam rushed to his side holding firm onto the man's bony arms and helping him stay up right, he'd be dammed if he lost yet another Captain.

"Your brother would kiss the wooded ground you walked on if you asked him too." John was silent for a long time before he added, "was it truly an accident?"

Liam was appalled as he took a step back quickly retracting his arms, "of course it was an accident! How dare you ask that it wasn't? The side of my brother's-

The Captain held up a hand silencing him in mid-rant, "I wasn't asking if you meant to scar your brother. I was asking if it truly was an accident that the two of you were sword fighting with real swords. Was it an accident that you wished to duel an opponent not only smaller than you but much lesser skilled? Or did you wish to vent out some of that anger boiling inside of you, at your mother, at Jones, at Matthias and at Killian, the reason your mother fled all of those nights ago? The reason you could not join the navy the day you turned fourteen. Huh? Am I right?"

The revelation a few days ago had been eating at him at all hours of the day, stealing his focus, his time and making it nearly impossible to sleep, as thoughts came bubbling up. Imaging his life as Liam Matthias junior, picturing if his mother had never fled all those nights ago would they still be living at the castle? Would there be an endless bounty of food? Balls filled with young bashful ladies in all sorts of dresses. Would he not know hunger and dehydration?

"Why would she run? She was a princess. She had it all, money, food, warmth!"

"Love is a fickle thing. It's started many wars and it's lost many lives. And to live a life without love is a terrible thing. Don't judge your mother too harshly. She was doing what I'm sure she thought was the best thing-

"For who, her unborn child? For Davy Jones? Certainly not for me or for Matthias!"

"Matthias was in love with another person, a person that goes by Avery," Before the Captain went further he stopped himself and said, "that is neither here nor there. The past is the past. You love Killian right?"

Without hesitation Liam answered yes. There was no one in any of the realms he loved more than the only family he'd actually known.

"Go and talk with him. You might think that you're good at hiding all of that rage but news flash you're like every other anguished teenager, moody and brooding around this ship."

Killian sat in his bunk, propped up by his lumpy pillow. He hadn't bothered to light any of the candles, letting only the tiny streak of lights from the creaks of the upper deck shine in. He'd delicately peeled off the bandage from his cheek and was tentatively touching the wound that'd been inflicted by his brother's sword. Liam hadn't really been his self and despite knowing they shouldn't Killian allowed himself to be goaded into a duel even though he was certain he'd lose. It was the harsh swings of the sword and the look of pure enjoyment that terrified him. In those moments it wasn't Liam fighting him, it was something else. What he wasn't exactly sure.

Hearing his brother's pounding defiant steps down the latter Killian pulled the pillow down and rolled onto his side, stuffing the bandage underneath the sheets.

"You can stop pretending." Liam said smugly. "I know you sleep on your stomach, not your side." He plopped himself down at the edge of the bed careful not to squish his brother's feet and hunching himself over. "I wanted to apologize."

"What overcame you in that duel?"

His brother's glacial eyes starred intently at him, one of his eyebrows quirking upward as he propped himself up on his elbows. How could he put it into words? That he was angry Killian had been born? But he wasn't angry that he existed? How would that make any sense to him? It would hurt him so.

Sensing his elder brother's hesitation Killian all-knowingly said, "I'm not a little boy."

"No but you're still my baby brother."

"Baby? Perhaps little would be better suiting. I'm not that little kid anymore. I've traveled to many foreign lands, heard every foul word in our language and though not officially I've been serving in his Majesty's army. There isn't much I haven't seen or done yet."

"There are a lot of things you haven't done yet. Like reach five foot of height, or kissed a girl-

"And you have?" Upon the faint blush that spread across his elder brother's pale cheeks Killian leaned further and pressed, "you have? When Mr. Upstanding Lieutenant you!"

"A few months ago, when we were at the port in Coventry, I accompanied Denny to a tavern." The memory was a bit fuzzy. The rum had made it nearly impossible to recollect anything from that night aside from rapid flashes, smells, touches and sounds, "her name was Jade."

"A hooker?!" Killian inquired in disbelief and his eyebrow arched even further up his forehead. "Did you….," his voice trailed off as his eyes looked away. His brother only recently became aware of things beyond kissing. They'd been orphaned long before anyone could ever properly explain to them and Matthias had taken the time to have that particular chat with him, long before Liam knew of their true identity. It was one of those fatherly things he'd bestowed upon him before being honorably discharged. It was a chat Liam would never forget, awkward, blunt, short, Matthias was sweating profusely and it left the both feeling aloof. There'd been a number of things the man left out, that left him curious, which led him to the sailors who were more than happy to share in their vast knowledge.

"I don't really think it's any of your business, _little _brother." Liam retorted. His precarious brother looked as though he wanted to ask for more but was too embarrassed too. He was still a bit young to know much about any of that business.

Killian turned back to their prior conversation inquiring what had overcome his brother. Liam heaved in a deep breathe; he hadn't divulged any part of what he'd discovered at the palace, feeling it to be much too burdensome, but it too was Killian's burden. Trying his best not to tarnish the idealized version of their parents that his little brother clung too he began to tell the tale of all he knew. The twelve year old was silent during the whole telling, looking quite perplexed.

"We're only half brothers?"

The question caught Liam off guard completely. "I don't believe in family by half. You're my little brother and you will always be."


	6. Chapter 6

Birthdays had always been an odd thing for the brothers Jones. Liam could recall his fell towards the end of the dry season and Killian's was in the dead of the cold one. The exact date was unknown and they'd always celebrate approximately around the time with a singing and drawings of candles in the dirt. One for each of their years, it was the only reason Killian ever learned to count. They'd "blow" them out by using their hands to make the squiggly lines that represented the flames with their feet they'd make them disappear and when night fell they'd make a wish upon the blue star, which according to wise tale was a magical entity that could grant wishes. Liam usually wished for food and water and a home and Killian wished every year for their father to return to them.

"Happy birthday brother," Liam said holding out his hastily wrapped present that he acquired in the last port. It was a small trinket but it was a gift something neither had received in quite a long time.

Killian took it with no hesitation shaking the object close to his slightly pointed ears trying to guess its contents before ripping away at the parchment paper. The gift was a tiny silver compass that was only slightly smaller than the palm of his brother's outstretched hands. A smile breaks out on his face and genuinely he said, "Thank you, it's the best gift I've ever received."

To his elder brother's surprise Killian did something he hadn't in a long time, embraced him in a tight hug. The bony arms that used to dig into his stomach were replaced by firm arms that seemed just the right size. Liam took a moment to return the embrace and the fleeting hug was soon over as his now thirteen year old brother broke away. The new teenager had hit a growth spurt and appeared to be quite lean and wiry but for the first time in his life didn't look underfed. There were still remnants of the malnourishment present in his gaunt cheeks but soon they too would fade. To Liam's amusement the kid started to use the compass walking in various different directions just to see the tiny dials move accordingly. Through Matthias' teachings Liam had taught his brother how to circumnavigate using just stars and no doubt if his brother looked up from the compass he'd be able to tell the direction without the use of a compass.

"Your brother's something else." Captain John remarked chuckling as he shook his head. It'd been the Captain's idea to splurge on the trinket. Usually his yearly earnings immediately went into savings something the other crew members called him a tight ass for. Perhaps one day they could afford their own lodgings. The other sailors went home to their families, their homes and their villages; they were the only people who stayed aboard the ship. Both brothers had enthusiastically embraced the idea, fantasizing about what their home would look like. They agreed on a one room home with a loft. Killian wanted nothing more than to have a home in the village he was born but Liam was hesitant. The stigma would be a heavy price to pay being a Jones until they amended their name.

"He is."

"Just make sure he doesn't fall off the edge of the ship. The currents in the Dead Sea are quite strong and much bigger men have been lost to it."

"Sir there's another ship amongst us." A sailor announced.

Liam tensed immediately; they were supposed to be the only ship in the vicinity meaning it was other a ship from another land or a pirate's ship. Neither boded them well. Looking upon his Captain whose face seemed to grow stoic instead of concerned and rather than barking out orders to take positions for a confrontation he ordered the man sailing to continue on course. The other sailors protested but did as they were told.

The other ship seemed to have a ghastly pale glow upon it. Liam searched the skies in search of the source but found the moon was not present. Alarmed he stalked around the ship trying to catch a better glimpse of the vessel.

"Woah Killian!" Liam barked out rushing towards the port side of the ship were his brother was leaning on the edge. He seemed enchanted by the oddly glowing ship, his eyes wide and his face blank. "What's overcome you?"

His little brother blinked repeatedly and then frowned. "I don't know. I don't know."

"Captain what's going on?"

The Captain stood to the starboard side of the wheel looking perplexed and aged. He was not going to give an answer rather he ordered the sailors to get ready for a passenger on the other ship to board.

"As your lieutenant I demand to know what the hell is going on!" Liam yelled out. "It goes against all rules and regulations of his Highness to allow passengers from unknown ships aboard the _Jewel of the Realm_. You're letting an unknown risk aboard this ship and I wouldn't jeopardize our safety or anyone's on this ship! Suspend that order!"

The crew hesitated before continuing to go along with what the Captain had ordered. Killian was the only person who refused to do anything, dutifully starring back up at his brother with an aloof smile plastered to his face as he shifted from foot to foot dead center on the main plank. The ghastly ship vastly approached them seemingly gliding across the water. The wind was at a stand still. There was tales of ghost ships in the land ones that foretold sailors' deaths at sea but Liam didn't believe them. The only people who could have possibly seen a supposed ghost ship was rotting away at the bottom of the ocean unable to tell another soul of what they'd seen. But in that moment panic set in and he was a firm believer and it seemed he wasn't the only one. All of the sailors sunk to their knees and began saying prays to the gods and goddesses of the lands to spare them.

John seemed to be the only one who was unfazed taking the wheel and navigating it closer to the ship. The cries and pleas of his men seemingly fell on deaf ears as they moved forward towards the ship.

"Who the hell is on that ship?" Liam demanded unsheathing his sword from its case and pointing the tip towards the Captain. _Mutiny_ was considered treason. Killing one's captain was considered treason. Both crimes warranted an immediate execution but if they were to die at the hands of a ghost ship then it didn't matter he reasoned with himself.

The captain dryly chuckled and shook his head. "I'm guessing you were never told the tale of the Flying Dutchmen."


	7. Chapter 7

With a startling tremor Killian realized the ship was hovering just above the murky still water, its crew appeared to be skeletons adorned in oversized outdated naval uniforms that hung loosely on them and they communicated in a sort of grunts, groans and incoherent noises to one another slowly ambling along the deck. His eyes fell to his elder brother whose skin had taken a pallor shade, his eyes wide and his hand was shaking as it extended his sword. When their eyes met, Liam gave him a poor brief attempt at a smile that was supposed to be reassuring but failed miserably. His big brother was petrified.

The Captain appeared to be the only member of the crew that wasn't a skeleton. He didn't exactly look alive either, his skin had a deathly grayish look to it, and his eyes had a glassy unfocused appearance to them. He sauntered upon the plank connecting the two ships, a guard of skeletons behind him.

_No, no, no, it can't be_. _Yes, yes, it is, that's Davy Jones, that's him._ The two voices of thought in Liam's mind were trying to figure out if the Captain of the Flying Dutchmen was indeed Davy Jones.

_"All of the realms Papa?" a seven-year-old Killian had happily inquired as Davy attempted to get the squirmy restless toddler into his bunk by tucking the blankets tightly at his sides. _

_ "All of them. I promise." Davy had replied his voice heavy as he leaned over the bed and placed lingering kisses to the boy's cheek and head, for a long time resting their dark heads of hair together before breaking apart. Liam, now twelve years old knew he was no longer a small child but he found himself warranting the same treatment. Goodnight kisses are been infrequent since Mama died. Many a night Davy drunk himself into a stupor and Liam had to maneuver him into his own bed, using all sorts of different techniques to boost him into the bed. Davy shuffled away from his younger son's bed and looked to his elder son with a kind lopsided grin. The kid resembled his mother; her smile, her hair, her eyes and most of all her spirit. "Hey there bubba." _

_ Liam squirmed underneath the covers. The term of endearment hadn't been bestowed upon him in a while. Davy sat on the edge of his bed, starring at him for a very long time before tucking the covers around him, making them tight around his body effectively ending his squirming. "You've been such a good boy. Take real good care of your little brother." The words came out heavy and bereaved as if the man was about to cry and if Liam hadn't been tucked in so tightly he would have sat himself up on his elbows to see if there were actual tears. "Your mama would be so damn proud of you." A few moments passed. "I'm real proud of you too and I want you to keep up watching after your brother. He's gonna need you."_

_ "Of course, Papa." _

_ Davy ruffled his hair, "Atta boy. Atta boy. Get some rest." _

Those were the lost words Davy had ever said to him. The next morning he was awoken to the sounds of hysterical sobbing from Killian who'd woken that day to find him gone. At that moment Liam would exchange anything for some sort of telepathic way to inform his brother of the situation but as that was nearly impossible he decided to continue on starring pointedly at his brother hoping to convey the message.

Killian stood planted to his step on the deck starring with his mouth gaping open as he looked upon the Captain. He couldn't quite tell if the man was alive or dead, or if the dagger he was clutching tightly would have any kind of effect on him.

"Have you ever heard of Purgatory?" John began loudly as he sauntered around the decks. To whom he was speaking too Liam wasn't quite sure. "It's this eternal pit where souls go to await judgment. Now I know I'm dammed. That much is certain." He stopped by the side of Davy Jones; the pair seemed to share a nod of acknowledgement. "But I've found a way to make my time much more pleasant. See Davy here is the sentenced transporter of all souls, sailors in particular. He has quite a considerable pull with the powers that be."

The guard of skeletons swarmed around Killian who began to violently swing the dagger around but any of his slashes seemed useless. One of the guards disarmed him kicked the dagger off the side of the boat whilst the others grabbed tightly onto him.

"So you sold my brother to him?" Liam roared feeling fury and rage surge inside of him like it never had before. "Let go of him! Let go of him! Take me! Take me!"

"Liam, you misunderstand!" Davy yelled stepping in front of the guards and Liam drawing out his own sword and deflecting his son's hasty rapid swings. "Liam! Liam please, stop, you're wrong. Your brother's not going to purgatory. He's coming with me."

It was Davy's expressive eyes that had stayed the same despite his near dead appearance. Eyes that portrayed loneliness and a deep sadness, despair. Liam lowered his sword heaving in a deep breathe. "You _left _us. You _abandoned _us on a ship by our lonesome with no money, no food, no explanation! We were supposed to see the world together! This grand adventure! The Jones Family on the high seas, seeing every single realm. You promised!" The plea to Liam's dismay came out sounding like the whine of a child. "What in gods name made you think you could take him back? That you have the right too?"

Killian watched in terror as the clashing of the blades momentarily concluded. Davy at first looked enraged, his nostrils flaring and his eyes flashing a much darker shade. _Liam keep your sword up! _He begged silently in his head certain the man was about to strike his brother whilst off-guard and out of breath, but the Captain of the Flying Dutchmen did something else. He turned violently away from Liam, his whole body racking as deep sobs bellowed out of the man. He lumbered towards the side of the ship and held onto the railing for support. A slurring of incoherent sentences came from the sobering man, the skeleton crew and the crew of the _Jewel of the Realm _had gone eerily silent.

When Davy seemingly collected himself, he let out a muffled fit of laughter that soon erupted into a coughing fit. "You've got your mama's spirit." He managed to choke out in-between barks. The statement caught the youngest Jones off-guard; he tilted his head and arched one of his eyebrows up, as he began to question the sanity of his father. He'd begged and begged Liam all of his life for details about their parents(well to be exact Davy and Geneva), everything and anything he could recall. Insanity was not a trait described, nor was spirit.

"You have spent your fair number of years on the high seas," Davy continued, "know how lonely and isolated one could feel?" He didn't wait for anyone to respond as he continued on. "You have the company of the crew, of each other, _human _contact. I haven't spoken, touched, interacted with another human being since the night I was _captured_-

"Captured?" Liam retorted. "You were a fugitive and fled to avoid capture!"

"All of those trumped up chargers were false allegations by a grieving angered King who lost his daughter many years before she left this physical realm. He _cursed-_

"Stop!" Liam cried suddenly as he pounded towards the railing. "Such blasphemy you spew! The King is a right, just, and holy man who would not place such a punishment on a soul who did not warrant such punishment!"

Davy flinched as though he'd been slapped. The loyalty to the king was undeniably festering in Liam since his first trip to the palace just about three years ago. There'd been all sorts of other invitations as well, to balls, to war meetings and to holidays. They were honored guests of the King's, though were not recognized as his grandchildren as that would cause uproar in the kingdom. To protect his daughter and Liam himself, Finnian fabricated a scene that would it make it seem as though they had met their demise at the hands of the ruthless conquerors of the North, protecting his daughter's reputation and garnering enough support to crush any sort of opposition to the north. It'd been a strategic move and also a move out of love. A child, George, born of wedlock was appointed to be the next King, something the people felt good about. They had lost a beloved princess but earned a noble, trusted man who would be fit to rule in her place. The king was a just and fair, man.

Davy began to convulse, shaking, twitching, making odd movements with his hands and began to utter underneath his breath, seemingly having an argument with himself. Seizing the opportunity, Liam drew his sword and with one deceives slash cut his upper stomach to his shoulder. The man hunched over in pain, gasping as his pale hands gripped at the where blood was supposed to be.

"Release my brother or I'll kill you." The threat was an empty one. Never in his life had he intentionally killed someone. There'd been many a navy skirmish where he'd fire off a cannon at an opposing ship but never intending to kill someone, merely intending to sink it and halt the impending threat.

Davy whole heartily chuckled, his belly jiggling too as tears brimmed at the edges of his eyes. "Oh boy, only if I could be killed."


	8. Chapter 8

There was nothing more that Davy Jones warranted more than the ability to die. Death made life worth living and the afterlife made up for what was supposed to be an eternity, a reunion between souls that'd been previously lost. And he was cursed to an eternity in the physical realm.

"I've tried everything, my boy." Immediately Liam flinches as though he'd been slapped. Ignoring it he heaved in a deep breathe and continued. "Swords, knives, daggers, drowning, guillotines, there is not a cruel manner in which I have not dared yet to try to end my existence."

"But if you take me with you...," Killian spoke up hesitantly. "One day you'll have to watch me die." The skeletons knobby fingers were digging into his skin in a painful manner as he keeps on desperately trying to rid himself of the grip.

"There are many ways in which a person can live for much longer."

It became clearly evident that the man had cleverly thought out and calculated every part of this plan, from his immortality to Killian's mortality. Liam had not a slight clue or idea of what he should do next, something he hadn't ever experienced before. Life on the streets had one simple and basic principal,_ survive_. Life in the navy had another few principals but he knew what exactly what he was supposed to do and when he was supposed to do it.

"They'd be unholy ways." Killian stated in a much firmer voice as he gave up on trying freeing himself. There'd always been murmurs about a Fountain that allegedly preserved youth with some dastardly consequences or some potions or spells of magical warlocks that could keep someone living but all had horrendous effects on the person. "You'd turn me into one of them!" He jerked his head in the direction of the skeleton army. "Do you think _she,_ Geneva, _my mum _would want that?" Davy's face clenched up suddenly as though he was sucking on something sour. Realizing he'd struck more than a few cords deep inside the man, he continued. "Liam tells me her last breathe was spent on trying to get you to promise to take care of us. How angry would she be if you turned me into something not human?"

Liam wasn't sure if his brother was being idiotically brave or stupid. The way in which the man was twitching and jerking about made it seem the words were touching the man and his love for their mother. Seemingly communicating through odd facial expressions the skeletons reluctantly released him and he plummeted onto the floor with a loud thud.

Scrambling the youngest Jones got up into a standing position and brushed off some the dirt. He rubbed his sore wrists and scurried hastily towards his brother, grabbing the dagger from it lay scattered along the deck.

Davy's voice was heavy and bereaved as he spoke, "You boys _were-_are the best things about my life. About her life, there is nothing I regret more than leaving the two of you." He nodded his head towards Liam. "You do not understand what it was like to turn myself in."

"Then why did you? Why didn't you just flee to all of the realms we were supposed to go to?" Killian cried loudly holding his dagger outstretched towards him. "It would have evaded your capture."

"And ultimately placed you two in more danger! The constant pursuit of fleeing and evading was not meant for children and you'd already been harmed due to it. You do not understand, you can't understand what I had to do for the two of you!" He began to shake his head rapidly as he began to pull at the hair atop his head, pulling large clumps out of his head. He no longer seemed to be in control of his jerky body movements and it seemed he was unaware of the slur of incoherent words he was uttering. Liam protectively positioned himself in-between the crazed man and Killian.

"Papa. Papa!" Liam called out firmly drawing him from his crazed state of mind. Two cerulean orbs that were glassy and unfocused fell upon him. A blank expression as if the physical body was still there but the part that made him who he was had gone away. "It's me, it's Liam." Placing his sword back into his sheath at his right hip and took two large strides towards the man and gripping tightly onto his slimy, cold wrists. "You are unwell, _please_, leave. For the safety of your son, for our _mum_!" And then he ordered a threat only used in rare circumstances. "Leave now sir or walk the bloody plank."

"The _plank_?! The PLANK!" Davy bellowed as though he'd never heard of the concept prior. "There that's something I haven't thought of!" Like an excited child at one of a toy sale in the port cities, he giddily capered to the where the plank jetted out above the murky waters. "Well c'mon lad." He motioned wildly to the plank as he took his first few steps onto the board. "Make me walk the plank!" The plea was childish and made Liam's legs feel like rubber as he faltered towards Davy, drawing his sword with great reluctance. The man plummeted to the seas below like a cannon ball, slipping underneath the waters and not submerging for what felt like an eternity. His army of skeleton sailors began to clump together as they filed out of the ship, grunting and moaning as they went.

The other sailors of their crew for the most part were confused but thanking every one of the gods for their safety. Not many lived to tell the tale of an encounter with Davy Jones and his crew of skeletons. John was sent to the brig were he was being guarded by two cabin boys. They were to accomplish their task of reaching one of the Northern lands by nightfall the very next day and would send word to their King about yet another treacherous turn of events.

"I don't understand you." Killian said suddenly after a long period of utter silence as the brothers stared up at the stars, clearly lost in their own musings. "In one sentence you were calling that man Papa and the next you were saying _your _son."

"That's what you take notice of?" Liam retorted and upon the critical glance of his brother he added. "I'm still trying to work out my paternity in my head. It's not a simple task, but I do know one thing."

"What's that?"

"You're my little brother-

"_Younger_."

"And I will always look after you."

Killian smiled up at him, "Thank you." And then after a moment's thought he added. "I love you."

**A/N: I hope the ending did not seem anti-climatic and odd but I liked the way it came out. Davy Jones in my head had become insane and obsessed with the idea of dying, because he's cursed to an eternity without human interaction. He was inspired slightly by season 5 "Cole Turner" from Charmed. And the next chapters will feature oneshots and I think will be more in Killian's point of view than his brother. Does anyone have any specific prompts or ideas they wanted played out? I'd love to take any ideas or requests from my faithful reviewers and thank you all for the support thus far. **


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